Atlas Abandoned

Orphaned (2 years since the alarm / day of the crash)

"Pallas! Pallas! No! Stop! Stop it!" Demeter cried with defeated eyes as she ran through the dimly lit corridor towards the yelling and screaming coming from where her brother had cornered another boy his age.

Pallas swung loudly and violently and with barbaric wild screams. He was hitting the motionless body of the other boy until Demeter grabbed his whole arm with all of her strength. Pallas writhed until his arm slipped free of her grasp, but it was over. Demeter was followed by a pair of older men wearing uniforms with Mammoth patches on their sleeves and a medic. The medic rushed to the beaten boy on the ground while the soldiers hurried to restrain Pallas. He had been calming down until they grabbed his arms, but this provoked him to start kicking and thrashing about, spitting and cursing at everyone around him.

"What the hell happened here, boy?" grunted one soldier as he locked Pallas' arms behind his back. Pallas

"He's alive," the medic chimed in, examining the boy's head and neck carefully. The other soldier turned to Demeter.

"What happened here? Who started this? Well?" Demeter shut her eyes, her faced twisted tightly as she fought hard not to burst into tears. Her stomach was shaking with silent sobs and the soldier turned back towards Pallas, who had run out of steam while restrained by the first soldier.

"Alright, let's go find your counselor, kid," he said.

"No!" Demeter yelled.

"Then tell us what happened!" the soldier insisted. Demeter wasn't even sure. She tried to make something up through her crying and sniffling, but she just couldn't form the words. She was frozen. Pallas didn't seem to care. He relaxed and started walking away with the soldiers, not even glancing back at the kid he'd beaten half to death; not even glancing back at his sister.

Demeter stood quietly in the dark, seemingly purposeless room until a second medic arrived to help the first one carry the injured boy out on a stretcher. She felt bad. She felt guilty, even though she hadn't done anything to the kid, and didn't want him to be alone in there. Now she stood alone. The next hour went by in a blur as Demeter cleaned herself up and met some of her friends at the cafeteria. It started out as a study group for their specialized science classes, but they were soon asking about her brother and the kid he beat up since nobody was immune from gossip in their world. She must have disappointed them with her replies because they soon changed subjects. It had taken a long time, but Demeter was finally able to forge a social life where her brothers used to take up all her time. She had done it by herself, too. Pallas was shit for help these days. Ever since the alarm went off, Pallas had gotten angrier and in more and more trouble. It wasn't usually this bad, though. On top of all of that, he never stood up for her and always ditched her. In fact, Demeter was feeling pretty drained from trying to help him so much with so little recognition or reciprocation. Maybe it was time Pallas figured things out for himself, too.

Demeter looked up from her lunch tray when she realized she was zoning out and laughed, trying to hop on the rails of the current gossiping conversation. She was actually forgetting her sadness and having a good time when the cafeteria, which was one of four huge, multi-level hubs in each quadrant of the station, with a capacity of thousands, started going quiet all around her. The buzz of the lunch rush quieted to a hum of whispers. Even the especially annoying girl at her table went quiet and joined the rest in staring behind Demeter at the group of high-ranking military officials who were entering the cafeteria at their level. This was actually happening in a few places in the cafeteria and throughout the whole station, but Demeter didn't notice any of that. She only saw the man in the black jacket, plastered with medals and ribbons, walking straight towards her.

'Please, not me. For once, don't have anything to do with me,' Demeter thought to herself. It was futile, as the man unmistakably beckoned "come hither" to her with his index finger, looked around at everyone who had stopped eating, sighed, and spun around to leave. Another, older child a dozen tables away was similarly removed from his lunch while Demeter packed up her things, gave her friends a deflated wave good-bye, and walked out of the cafeteria. As if on cue, the entire place resumed its buzz as soon as the doors shut behind her.